The rain dripped to a stop and I waited in the parking lot for the sun to appear. It felt like rainbow weather. As I searched the blank clouds, I heard a little boy shout, “Look! A rainbow!” and point down into the gasoline menagerie swirled in the puddle around his feet. My heart sank because I didn’t get my rainbow; his soared because he did.
Sometimes I find myself keeping mental lists of how I’d change my family or my role in it. Then we’re all together on a holiday like today & I recognize the beauty of embracing the “imperfections” and learning how to love deeper. I love just how many ways my family puts ‘fun’ in ‘dysfunctional.’
“…but deep down in her heart she could feel that ineffable change from hopeless romantic to… amateur curmudgeon. What once brought gushes of love now evoked onsets of eye-rolls. C’est tragic. C’est practical.
She was a philanthropic curmudgeon, if such a thing exists. Ah! They do. The nuns. She always felt an affinity for the Sisters. She was not quite past her child bearing years, yet quite past believing in fairy tales and prince charmings. The only place remotely suitable for her seemed to either be the convent or the open road.”
~ lines from the book I’m writing in my head based on my current situation in life